


Angel

by writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle (twoandahalfslytherins)



Series: Convenient Group of Femslash Fics [6]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Older Woman/Younger Woman, One Night Stands, non-skinny characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 09:12:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7751815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoandahalfslytherins/pseuds/writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> <br/>“I had not realized you were inexperienced,” Adrienne murmurs, lighting candles around the room before flicking off the lights and finally taking a spot on the couch. “Or I might not have been so forward.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m glad you were,” Angelica tries to keep the eagerness out of the statement. “I’m not sure I would have had the courage to speak up.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Adrienne’s expression is half hidden in darkness, though it seems to soften just a touch. Angelica can’t help but wonder if she’s like the Empress Josephine, who only ever allowed her lover to see her in such lighting. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rainah (RainahFiclets)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainahFiclets/gifts).



The hotel room is decadent and considering she comes from old money herself, it takes a lot for it to seem that way. There are houses smaller than this room, and she knows what kind of money it takes to make such large spaces still feel cozy. A fireplace takes up the far side of the room, and there’s not only a bed but a couch and desk as well. It’s the kind of place that one could make themselves at home in. But Angelica isn’t here for that.

Instead, she balances herself with a hand on the dresser as she toes off her heels, trying not to feel too silly. Next, comes the earrings, and the pins from her hair, allowing it to fall around her shoulders.

Make herself comfortable. That’s what she’s been told to do.

Except what does that even mean in this context? She’s not slipping into sweats to drink hot chocolate by the fire, she’s meeting with a woman for what will hopefully be a night of debauchery.

“Lovely,” Adrienne coos as she finally opens the door. “Absolutely lovely. How would you like to start?”

Start. Angelica twists the bracelets around her wrists. “I hope you don’t think me naive, but I’ve never really done this before.”

“This meaning a one night stand?” Adrienne asks, reaching out to gently stroke the side of Angelica’s face. “Or sleeping with a woman?”

Angelica finds herself leaning into the touch, into the soft fingertips. Parts her lips when Adrienne runs her thumb along the bottom one. “Either.”

It’s part of why she feels so out of her depth, but she wants this. Wants Adrienne. Wishes that they could take this slower, but Angelica’s time in France is dwindling fast. In thirty-six hours she’ll be back on a plane to New York and Adrienne will be on her way to London.

This entire vacation has been surreal. She’d met Adrienne a few days ago at a fashion show. Fashion is more of Eliza’s thing, but her sister is on her honeymoon. Didn’t want her tickets to go to waste. So Angelica had agreed to go for the experience, and instead, she and Adrienne had snuck out less than thirty minutes in.

It had been a spur of the moment decision, prompted by an obnoxious guest who wouldn’t stop talking. Once outside they’d made their way to the beach-

And Angelica had loved that too. Walking barefoot with her shoes dangling, able to be silly without concern that there would be reporters about. No one knew her as a politician’s daughter her, no one cared what she did.

No one but Adrienne. Who had invited her to go the ballet the next day. Said that it was the most fun she’d had in awhile, and she wanted to return the favor. 

The ballet had turned into dinner. Dinner had turned into Adrienne’s hand on her knee, a wish that they had more time.

A question. Did Angelica want to make the most of what they had left? 

An unspoken implication about what that meant as Adrienne passed her the hotel key.

“It is okay,” Adrienne’s voice is soft. “Would you like a drink, maybe?”

A drink sounds nice. Adrienne leads her to the couch, and Angelica crosses one ankle over the other as Adrienne pours them both a small bit of champagne. It’s not enough to get drunk, and Angelica finds herself appreciative of that courtesy even as she wishes there were more. The bubbles tickle her nose as she takes slow sips.

“I had not realized you were inexperienced,” Adrienne murmurs, lighting candles around the room before flicking off the lights and finally taking a spot on the couch. “Or I might not have been so forward.”

“I’m glad you were,” Angelica tries to keep the eagerness out of the statement. “I’m not sure I would have had the courage to speak up.”

Adrienne’s expression is half hidden in darkness, though it seems to soften just a touch. Angelica can’t help but wonder if she’s like the Empress Josephine, who only ever allowed her lover to see her in such lighting.

“Would you like to speak plainly?” When Angelica doesn’t answer, Adrienne’s lip twists slightly. “Or take things slowly and hope we don’t hit any walls.”

Oh. “A mix? I’m not a virgin, just-”

Inexperienced, Adrienne had called her. She wasn’t wrong. There’d been a moment, however brief, that she’d thought that she and Hamilton might have a connection. John Church had been sweet enough, had been gentle, but he’d wanted to elope. To run away together.

A romantic idea when it’d just been talk. An idea to pass nights under the stars with, or giggle about as they watched the ocean on vacation. What would it be like to simply disappear? To leave their families and obligation? To change everything they were.

John hadn’t understood that she couldn’t actually do that. She was the daughter of a senator and more, she was a Schuyler sister. There was no changing that.

This time, when Adrienne puts her hand on Angelica’s knee, she angles into it, runs her own fingers along the silky fabric of Adrienne’s sleeve.

An exploration that Adrienne allows. Allows, because Angelica is under no impression that she’s to be the dominant party here. 

A thought that thrills her.

In America, people expect so much of her. She’s expected to be cool and collected, expected to be the strong one, to handle things. It isn’t that she doesn’t do well enough at any of those things, she does. With two younger sisters to protect in the spotlight, Angelica has learned to talk the talk and walk the walk.

Here she feels less Schuyler more Angelica. Without any of the fear that she’s losing part of herself in the process.

“May I kiss you?” For a moment, Angelica fears that the question is out of line, but Adrienne chuckles before pulling her in.

Adrienne’s lips are soft and pillowy. There’s no rush here, no fight for dominance, even as she helps guide Angelica into her lap. The kiss is languid, almost as if they are old lovers, not new acquaintances. 

What kind of experience is necessary for such confidence?

“You’re beautiful.” Adrienne’s fingers glide down her sides, and the woman shushes her softly when Angelica opens her mouth to argue. “Take the compliment. Would you like to retire to the bed?”

The bed has to be custom built, far larger than a king for sure and covered in beautiful plum sheets. Angelica had wondered when she saw it if it was part of the reason why Adrienne picked this hotel, this room, her fondness of the color.

She seems like the kind of woman who would do such a thing.

As it is, Angelica pauses before laying down, stopping to remove her dress. When she goes to sit, to remove the garter that holds her thigh highs in place, Adrienne shakes her head.

“Leave them, will you?” Angelica’s hands still, and Adrienne rewards her with another gentle kiss. “Would you like to unzip my dress?”

Yes. Standing behind the woman without her heels makes Angelica feel small. Adrienne’s twists end at eye level for her, and with a fair amount of care she brushes them to the side so that she can do as she’s been asked. 

Can’t resist the urge to kiss the small bit of skin that is exposed. Beneath her gown, Adrienne is wearing a simple slip and Angelica hesitates, unsure if she’s supposed to remove it as well.

Finds herself pulled into another kiss as Adrienne turns around, and Angelica allows herself to be walked backward and pressed into the bed. Crawls backward at Adrienne’s encouragement, getting comfortable in the sprawl of pillows.

Closer to the candle on the bedside table now, Angelica closes her eyes and inhales. The room is filled with a soft cinnamon scent, the kind that makes her think of fall and warmth. The kind, she feels like, will forever remind her of tonight from now on.

In a few months, she’ll walk into an overpriced cafe in New York, bundled up in too many layers to be practical, and be transported back here. To this moment.

To Adrienne’s hand sliding up her thigh.

With John, she’d always been self-conscious of their size. Had worried about what he thought of them, of the way they moved. If he thought ill of her stretch marks.

While Angelica hasn’t seen them yet, Adrienne’s curves leave no question as to whether or not she bears similar highlights.

Dark purple polish glints in the candlelight as Adrienne divides her attention. Her left-hand rubs between her legs, a gentle, teasing touch that Angelica longs to grind into. Her right cups her breast through the light pink lace of her bra, thumb tracing the outline of her raised nipple.

But it’s her mouth that has most of Angelica’s attention, soft kisses feathered along the expanse of skin along her neck.

“Let me-” whatever she’d been about to say dies in her throat as Adrienne pinches her nipple. It isn’t too harsh, but it’s enough to take her breath away. “Please-”

Adrienne lifts her head, amusement sparkling in her eyes. “Yes?”

There’s a list of things running through Angelica’s head, but she settles for the request that Adrienne is most likely to give into. “More. I need more, Ma’am.”

The Ma’am is a bit of a risk, but Adrienne hums to herself as she shifts, the hand that had been rubbing Angelica through her panties slipping inside. Two fingers slide between her folds, and Angelica whimpers as Adrienne takes no time to find her clit and stroke it.

Still, too soft, too slow, more teasing than fulfilling. “Ma’am-”

“Shush,” Adrienne chides, sounding amused. “Tell me if you want something to stop, other than that, stop being greedy.”

Greedy. Angelica squirms, but she doesn’t have time to be ashamed because Adrienne is lowering her head. Warmth surrounds her breast as the woman alternates between gentle sucking and not so gentle nips.

Too soon the hand between her legs disappears, only, this time, it goes higher, Adrienne encouraging her to lift up slightly so that she can remove her bra. It leaves her breasts exposed to the air, exposed to Adrienne’s mouth as she uses both hands to push them together.

A leg insinuates itself between her thighs, finally giving her permission to grind down, head thrown back and gasping as Adrienne works her magic. The sheets are soft as she twists them, unsure if she’s allowed to touch, not wanting to do anything that might break the moment.

“Beautiful,” the word is dark and smoky against her skin, “Beautiful. I would like to taste you, may I?”

Is that even a question? Angelica nods, no longer caring if she seems overly eager.

But Adrienne doesn’t rush, works her way slowly down Angelica’s body. Runs her hands down Angelica’s sides, twin points of focus as she kisses the path from breasts to promised land. Massages Angelica’s legs as she removes her stockings, rolling them down at her own pace, refusing to be rushed.

It’s enough that by the time that she’s nude, Angelica isn’t sure how long she’s going to last. Prays she doesn’t make a fool of herself as Adrienne nudges her thighs wider still.

The first contact is heaven, soft kisses where Adrienne can reach, in no hurry to push Angelica over the edge. More interested in her own exploration, in opening Angelica up slowly, and she hadn’t realized she could be so turned on without direct stimulation.

But Adrienne’s warm breath is as wonderful as a cool breeze on a summer’s day.

Adrienne’s tongue is a testament, pushes Angelica to sing hymns, especially once the woman uses her hands to open her up further.

“That’s right, Angel-” Angelica tries not to think about that honeyed tongue covered in her juices- “Just let go, let me take care of you, sweet thing.”

As if she has any choice, as if Angelica is capable of doing anything but thrash as Adrienne slides two capable fingers inside of her. When this is through, she’s going to write poetry. Sing Adrienne’s praises, write soliloquies about the wonders of women. Create an altar to Sappho with Adrienne’s picture in the middle.

As it is, she can only collapse into the bed, sobbing as she comes. 

Powerful hands coax her to not one, but two more orgasms before Adrienne finally crawls back up her body, kissing her once more. It’s something that she never let John do, too embarrassed at the idea of tasting herself, but it seems like such a trivial worry now that she’s melted into the mattress.

With an unexpected ease, Adrienne is able to move her, away from the wet spot in the bed, away from where she’s pretty sure her soul left her body. There're idle patterns being traced into her skin, and it’s to these slight tickles that Angelica drifts off.

Wakes up hours later with a panic in her chest. “I’m so sorry, I was so self-”

Adrienne presses a finger to her lips, cutting the word off. “I consider it a compliment, Angel.”

Compliment or not, Angelica feels terrible for allowing the focus to be on her the whole time. “Ma’am, please, may I return the favor?”

“I have to warn you,” Adrienne murmurs, looking far too serious for the subject. “That I am no longer as young or beautiful as you are.”

It isn’t something they’ve talked about, Adrienne’s age, though she can’t be more than a decade or two older than Angelica's twenty-five. And sure, Adrienne might not be as petite as she is, but she’s hardly any less beautiful for it. “You’re gorgeous- no, take the compliment, please. You’ve shown me such a lovely time this whole trip.”

Angelica takes a deep breath, gathers her courage. “You said we could speak plainly, I’d really like it you rode my face.”

It obviously isn’t what Adrienne is expecting, but at least she bursts into giggles instead of chiding Angelica for being vulgar.”

When she’s finally collected herself, Adrienne reaches out to brush Angelica’s hair from her face. “Are you sure? I would not be upset if you did not reciprocate. Bringing you to such peaks was ecstasy enough.”

“Wrecking me, you mean,” Angelica teases her. “Would you like me to beg? To tell you how much I would love to be buried within your bosom or between your legs? How I long to taste you? To listen to the beautiful sounds you must make?”

“I am not sure how well you would hear, in between my thighs,” Adrienne says plainly before licking her bottom lip, obviously considering the offer. “You will stop if it becomes too much?”

“It won’t.” Angelica’s always been told her determination is one of her less flattering qualities, but she refuses to be demure now. “Allow me the pleasure. Use me to your content.”

There’s another moment of panic, as Adrienne stands. But instead of walking away, Angelica is greeted with the sight of her body as she finally strips and she tries to soak in the details. Of the breasts, so much larger than her own, too much to fit within even both of her hands. Adrienne’s soft stomach, and how it gives way to substantial hips. The dark thicket of curls between her thighs that’s revealed as Adrienne steps out of the rest of her lingerie.

“Gorgeous,” Angelica repeats. “Simply gorgeous.”

There’s never been a truer statement in her life, and yet Adrienne still looks as if she’s unsure as she crawls back on the bed. Angelica reaches out to touch her chest, splaying her fingers as if to test her previous assumption about their size. “Gorgeous.”

“I suppose,” Adrienne says, “That they do have their benefits.”

“Are you- Can I-” Angelica isn’t sure how to start her question, much less this.

Thankfully, Adrienne is as gifted as a mind reader as she is with her mouth. “It will work better if you lay back again.”

Of course, Angelica flushes as she complies. Strokes the outside of Adrienne’s thighs as the woman braces one leg on either side of her head.

Angelica starts slow, licking broad strokes along the outside folds, reveling in the wetness there. The taste is unfamiliar, but not too abrasive, and more importantly, it’s because of her. She’s the cause of this beautiful woman’s arousal.

Will also, hopefully, be the cause of her completion. 

“Just like that, Angel.” It’s more breath than words as Angelica’s tongue circles her clit. 

It’s her first time eating a woman out, but she knows what she likes, tries to translate this into motion. Figures she must be doing something write as Adrienne begins to move, hips rocking as she alternates sucking on her folds and fucking her with her tongue.

Wishes that she could get her hands up to help with the process, settles instead for wrapping them around Adrienne’s thighs, gripping the flesh there to encourage the woman to really ride her.

By the end of it, her jaw aches, and she’s not sure she’s ever used her tongue so much in one day, but it’s worth it for the mess that Adrienne’s juices make of her face. Worth it for the way the woman pants as she rolls off.

For the way she grips Angelica’s face with both hands as she kisses her.

Later, after they have washed their exertions off of each other’s bodies and curled up back in bed, Angelica sighs. “Is it sappy for me to say that I wish this day didn’t have to end?” 

Probably, but she hasn’t quite given up the idea of writing sonnets in Adrienne’s honor, either. Is already making plans to join her sister next year to the fashion show, in hopes that this might become a yearly tradition.

“It doesn’t have to, not yet.” Adrienne comforts her, fingers stroking soothing circles on her stomach. “And just remember, we’ll always have Paris.”

**Author's Note:**

> A gift fic as part of the wlw challenge thing where I am offering to write a 3-5k fic for anyone who writes at least a 1k fic featuring a femslash couple
> 
> You can find me for writing related things over at writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle on tumblr.


End file.
